“And yet you let me go. So you don’t get to tell me anything anymore,” I fume with my chin held high under his imploring stare. My voice breaks toward the end, and I hope he didn’t notice.
I want to keep the higher ground, so I stand up straighter, wanting to feel more of an even match for his hulking size that fills up this dim two-stall bathroom. His presence used to take up my entire vision when we were together.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Avery. I havenever, notfor one second, let you go.”
Before I can get a rebuttal out, he is on me, consuming all the surrounding space, until the air is filled with the smell of him—leather, sandalwood, and everything that makes him inherently him. The faint smell of alcohol clings to his skin from the drinks he has been serving tonight.
He invades my whole vision until all I can see is him. Those thick brows are bunched together, his dark eyes fixed on me as his tongue trails over his teeth. He drags histhumb against my bottom lip, slick with gloss. He takes that thumb and licks it off.
The next second, rough hands grab the back of my neck and bury themselves in my hair, pulling me into a bruising kiss. One large hand skims my waist, the pressure almost painful as if it’s keeping me from running again while his hot mouth devours me as if I’m the last meal he’ll ever get, his tongue dueling with mine.
I feel those calluses on the edge of his fingers from the countless hours of playing guitar dig into my scalp with a small bite of pain. The pull takes me higher as my breath comes out in pants between kisses.
His big hands release me to grab me by the thighs and hoist me up to the counter with such force, the mirror rattles. He captures the nape of my neck, angling my head back to kiss me deeper.
The heat rises in my belly until my whole body feels too sensitive as Kane looms over me. At this height I’m closer to his face, giving me easier access. His tongue slides inside my mouth with little resistance from me—unable to keep that part of me locked away from him—after just one kiss, I’m liquid in his hands.
We barely take time to rest in between strokes, my head going light with the lack of oxygen. The burning in my stomach goes higher, making me drunk on the feeling of him. The cocktail I drank at the bar doesn’t even touch the way he makes me feel—weightless.
His stark black hair and all-black clothes make him seem like the devil incarnate here to take my soul, and if that’s what he wants, I willgladlylet him have it in this moment.
Everything else around us ceases to exist as he continues his assault on my mouth. His tongue swirlsaround mine with expertise we’ve perfected over the years, our bodies remembering how perfectly they fit together, as he’s locked between my thighs.
I let my hands roam up his back to his neck before I dig my fingers in his silky strands, appreciating the feel of them running through my fingers again. I pull gently at the strands until a groan leaves his throat, coiling the heat in my belly further, making me flush with a burning need.
His tongue dives in and out, until I’m left panting and pulling back to get air, only for him to dive back onto my lips in seconds, as if that’s all the time he can handle being separated from them.
All I can think is how much I want this man—past and present be damned. I need him in a way that feels wrong to have ever denied myself. I was naïve to think there would ever be a time when my body would stop craving him,wantinghim,needinghim and only him. I was foolish thinking I could simply move on from someone like Kane—who has changed the very makeup of who I am. Someone who has woven himself so tightly around me that some days I struggle to find where one of us ends and the other begins.
When I saw him storm over to me, eating up the floor—all brooding confidence and thick muscles, the flex of his arms like he was ready to fight the world to get to me—I never thought his single-minded mission would lead here.
I feel his hands drop from my hair and skim up my legs as he continues to kiss me as if he can make up for the kisses we’ve missed over the past few months. He makes his way under my skirt to grab the very tops of my thighs, so close to where I’ve been aching since Kane stared at me as if I was an angel who fell from heaven. The leather of my skirt shifts easily, bunching around my waist.
His hand strokes me over my thong, and the gasp thatleaves me only spurs him on, making him press harder over the soft material. The silky black lace is impossibly wet and I find myself desperate for him to slide them to the side and put me out of my misery. The urgency to have him touch me where I ache for him and only him is overwhelming. I should be embarrassed by how wet I am, by how much he can feel how desperately I want him—need him—to touch me.
“Kane, more!” I cry out, coming up for air while he dives into my neck and kisses me in places he knows will unravel me. He pulls back to stare at me while his fingers continue their torturous motions on my clit, slow and unhurried.
“You want more, huh? You want to feel my fingers push this sexy fucking thong to the side and feel how wet you are for me?” Kane groans. His lips are just a breath away from mine but not close enough to touch. “You’re dripping so beautifully for me, baby—making a fucking mess of these scraps separating me from yourperfectfucking pussy,” he rasps, a knowing glint in his eye that confirms he’s torturing me, as my breaths grow heavier and faster.
My orgasm builds rapidly but is still just out of reach. The fire is so hot within me, and my body begs to eradicate anything that stands between us. My clothes feel too much on my overly sensitive skin, and I want to scream for him to replace them with his warm body flush with mine.
“Did you wear these for him?” he demands, holding my eyes and slowing his fingers over my bud, making a frustrated scream come out of me. “Did you wear them in hopes someone would take them off later?” he continues, as he pulls back and tilts my face up with his other hand until I’m nose-to-nose with him, so he can read any lies I may try tofeed him. My chin stays locked in his grasp, his pleading stare has me snared in his clutches.
“No, I—” I start, cut off with the force of Kane’s next assault on my lips, kissing me so hard I can’t think of anything else but him.
He pulls back. “Don’t lie to me,” he growls while his right hand bruises my hip, the bit of pain taking me further. He’s holding onto me as if I’m the last shred of his sanity keeping him tethered to Earth. He makes thinking in this moment, let alonespeaking,impossible.
I sit up straighter and face him head-on, staring into those hazel eyes. “I’m not. I wore them thinking of you,” I confess, breathing heavily and panting with his slow movement and the pinch he delivers to my clit, causing a gasp to leave my lips. “Because…even though you broke my heart, all I can ever think of is you. I go to bed thinking of you. I wake updrowningin dreams of you. You torture my mind every day,” I moan, pent-up lust mixing with anger at the audacity of him questioning me about other men whenheletmego.
He doesn’t offer a response before he’s back on me, kissing me, his hands diving into the side of my panties, finally pushing them aside and sliding over my wet heat.
I should be ashamed that arguing with Kane turns me on, but I can barely think as he starts to circle that small bundle of nerves. The heat in my stomach pulls tighter, and I start to move against his hand to encourage him to move faster. He slips just one finger inside and feels how drenched I am for him.
“If this is all I get from you for now, I want to take my time. But feeling you again, I can’t wait any longer,” he rasps as he pulls back and lifts me slightly off the counter and rips my panties down my leg. He shoves them into hisfront pocket and stares down at me as if he can’t imagine a better sight than my hair mussed, lips swollen and dripping for him. “Fuck, Avery, do you knowwhat you’re doing to me? You make me fucking crazy, out of my mind with jealousy, batting those pretty eyelashes at some other man—who is lucky to still be breathing. Touching you as if you’re his to touch,” he rushes out between breaths, hair messy and hands flexing as if he wants to go out there. “As if he has the right to think of you at all.”
Unable to wait any longer, I rip at his pants, undo his button and slide his zipper down, pulling him free. Just the sight of him hard for me—thick and heavy in my hand—has me on the verge of combusting. I pump him up and down and watch his eyes roll back into his head with a softfuck mefalling from his lips.
We stare at each other, panting, and the look in his eye tells me he’s giving me the chance to say no and walk away. I know that no matter what, he would respect my choice and let me go…again. He would take every hit I give him, just to come back for more.
